


The portrait of a dog

by Envydemon



Category: Layers of Fear (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Dogs, Layers of Fear - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Painting, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23065534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Envydemon/pseuds/Envydemon
Summary: A scene from the everyday life of the Painter after all of the tragedies.
Kudos: 5





	The portrait of a dog

'Oh sweet God!' I shouted 'Take it away from me!' It was a painful moment as my hands reached the canvas and as I just simply tossed the painting to the ground. This is how you destroy hours and hours of work with only one, strong movement. I felt sorry about it; it was such a beautiful one! I could smell the wet fur of the dog from the painting, I even heard him barking! I thought it was my mind playing with my senses first, but than he did it again. I swear to God, to the One and Only! He did it again! I heard him barking and it was only getting louder and louder, until his eyes started to turn as red as blood and the firstly peacful barking suddenly turned into a creepy, disgusting and painful growling.  
The painting was laying on the ground, but I could clearly hear it. It was my dog, that old bad boy whom I loved so much, but he was... different this time. As I watched the ink on the canvas that formed him, I was shocked. It was clearly him, I'm sure about that, because my eyes have never left me alone. It would be wonderful! A painter with bad eyes! Yuck, I can't even think about that! Anyways, I saw and heard my dog on the ground, from the torn canvas and it was terrible; after a while he started to make an angry sound, which sounded like somebody's choking him.

...

Sweat was running all over my body. My heart beated faster than a mortal man's should ever beat, and my lungs pumped air faster than they've ever did. I was afraid, but I opened my eyes and peace finally reached my soul; the only thing I saw was the ceiling and it was completly normal. It looked like as it used to and my body felt normal too. I calmed down. It was just a dream... A terrible nightmare, in fact, but it was still just a dream. Everything I saw was just filthy lies my mind made up somehow and for some reason. It was the fifth in a row, but I just couldn't get used to it. You can calm yourself down when you're awake or try to do it right before you're going to sleep, but it's not that is on the otherside. When you fall sleep, you go through a veil or something that seperates the psychical world from our dreams. You enter a realm, a region, a world or THE WORLD where your mind can be free. It is the only place where your soul is free; it's the only place where you can experience the things that you really fear, but sleeping is not the only way to get to this realm of freedom, happiness and the home of the most terrible pains. Men - and women! - made another "portal" to cross this veil; we simply call it art. Whenever I paint something, whenever a poet writes a poem, whenever my beautiful wife and muse play something with her fingers on the piano, we enter to this realm and we don't even stop there; we bring a piece with our selves, bring it here, to this filthy world of mortal beings and show it to people, sell it to them and actually, we make money from our souls.  
However, talking of my wife, she came into my mind very quickly after my awakening. I wanted to see her beauty after this terrible, terrible nightmare, because that was the only thing that could bring me inconsumable calmness. I turned out but I did not see her. It was only her pillow and her blanket lying next to me. I was so sad. She always told me that I work too much and that I should be with her more, but I've never listened to her and now I couldn't rest my eyes on that beautiful, mesmerising face of her or on even more. I couldn't resist, I wanted to see my wife; she was my wife, damn it! I watched her beauty wherever and whenever I wanted! She was mine, and I can't say it enough times, MY wife.  
I got up quickly and walked out of the room. I was in my nightclothes and it was night time clearly, so I didn't see anything without a lamp, but fortunately we had electricity in the house even back then; I yelled her name loudly but she didn't reply. I started to get very angry and worried at the same time, but then suddenly the sounds of the piano hit my ears. It was such a beautiful, beautiful melody. It tasted like honey for my ears or like a long nap after a hard day of work. I was obsessed with it. All of my anger was gone, moreover there was nothing left of me, only the man, the caring husband whom my muse and wife wanted so much.  
I walked in the direction of the sound very quietly, because I didn't want to miss a single note. I was about to get close to my wife playing the piano, but something reached my eyes. It was one of my old paintings hanging on the wall; the painting I saw in my dream. It was my beloved dog, that crazy little old boy whom I loved so much and still, he was different. He was very different. I stared at the picture for a very long time, even the music stopped. The more I watched, the more terrible he became; from my old folk, he suddenly became my enemy whom I choked unmercifully. Yes! That's it! I choked him with my own hands. With my own, filthy, inky, stinky and bloody hands! I felt terrible. I fell down on my knees and started crying as loud as I can. The house was filled with my crying but I did not care, because no one could hear it; I've not cried like this since my wife died.


End file.
